


A Friendly Chat

by morganskye



Category: Ghostbusters (Comics)
Genre: Comfort, Gen, Sometimes you need a shoulder to cry on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganskye/pseuds/morganskye
Summary: Peck isn't always a hard-ass. Sometimes he's a pretty decent guy.I wrote this for my friend Wicked when she was having a bad day.





	A Friendly Chat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WickedMusic96](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedMusic96/gifts).



       The pleasant fall day was lost on you as you sit dejectedly on a park bench. You just came from another job interview that was a waste of time. You did everything right, answered each question perfectly, but in the end it didn’t matter. 

 

“You’re just not what we’re looking for.”

“We need someone with more experience.”

“You don’t have the right training for this job.”

 

       Over and over it was the same bullshit line. What was the point of going to school and getting a degree if you couldn’t get a job at all, much less in your field? The weight of the entire world and everyone in it feels like it’s on you. You close your eyes, willing yourself not to cry…

       “It’s too pretty a day to be upset.”

       You look up, startled, as a man in his late 30’s is standing before you. He’s wearing a dark blue three piece suit and tie, which is probably stifling despite the cool weather. His red hair and beard are perfectly trimmed and styled. The man carries himself with poise and confidence. You think that if you had half of what he did you’d be employed right now. A tear escapes, trailing softly down your cheek. 

       “Hey now, don’t do that.”

       He hands you the handkerchief that had been expertly folded in his breast pocket. You reluctantly take it, not wanting to mess up his nice things. 

       “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

       “Sorry for what?” he asks, sitting next to you on the bench. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

       “I don’t know. I just…”

       “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

       You don’t know why this stranger is being so nice to you, but it’s sweet. So few people have been kind to you, especially those who should be no matter what. He looks at you like he’s honestly interested in what you have to say. 

       “Well...I’ve been job hunting. No one wants me though and I don’t understand why. I’m willing to work hard and I have a degree. On top of it all my grandmother is sick. She needs me to help her because no one else is. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

       You don’t want to cry in front of him, but you can’t help it anymore. The tears come and nothing can stop them. You feel him sit a little closer to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder. Without thinking about it you lean into him, his hand sliding over so that his arm is around you. The scent of fall leaves and aftershave overtakes you as he holds you. It’s so cathartic you don’t even care that you’re doing this in public. He rubs your back, his large hands making slow soothing circles. Soon you calm down enough to sit up. He smiles gently at you.

       “Feel better?”

       “Yeah a little,” you reply, sheepishly grinning. 

       “Good. Mind if I give you some advice?”

       “Sure.”

       He shifts a little so that you’re both facing each other. You stare into his eyes, drawn in by their hard kindness. 

       “You are a strong, amazing, intelligent woman. Anyone can see that just from looking at you. There is a power inside of you that no one can take away. I know things are hard right now, but keep trying and moving forward. Those places that didn’t hire you? They’re run by brain-dead morons who don’t deserve you. Don’t let them rob you of your inner power. No one can take it away unless you allow it.”

       He leans close and kisses your cheek. 

       “Always believe in yourself.”

       Like a gust of wind he’s gone, leaving you wondering if he was really there in the first place. You begin to think you’re going crazy until you realize you’re still holding his handkerchief. You lift it to your face and breathe in the warm, masculine scent. For some reason it’s easier to think about what to do next. The day seems brighter, as does the future. 


End file.
